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I had no choice but to accept this as part of the aging process. That night was amazing. I actually started dreaming after a long gap. Weird dreams but dreams all the same. I remember my brother telling me that I told him of dreaming about great white sharks and a magnum 357 handgun (Jaws and Dirty Harry?). What was the connection? I have no clue till date. Must have been mixed memories of things I had watched on TV that day along with some archived memories. All the same it was fun!Day 08 and my first outing out of the room on a wheelchair, in the evening as per instructions of the neurosurgeon. Man! I was like a kid let loose. I was actually making those ‘Vroom, vroom ‘sounds while being wheeled around the corridor of the floor I was on.
All the duty doctors, nurses, housekeeping staff had a chuckle or two on my account. So, what! I managed to bring a smile on their otherwise grim faces, and it felt good. I guess somebody informed the neurosurgeon as he was there in a few minutes standing akimbo and I actually saw him laugh at the spectacle in front of him, for the first time in past 7 days. But all good things come to an end and I was wheeled back into the room in a while and the neurosurgeon told me and my family who were there that he had never seen a patient in such good spirits after all that I had been through thus far and hinted at being discharged soon. Yay! I was going home.
Day 11 and the day starts early with the battalion returning and a Q&A session. Felt like one of those ‘20 rapid fire questions ‘sessions. Sheesh! The difficulty quotient during the physiotherapy sessions was put a notch or two higher and had a hunch that something was going on. Didn’t know what . Later that afternoon, the neurosurgeon along with other hospital staff that I had seen so far came in and told my wife’s sister and me that I was going to be discharged the next day. I tell you – that was the best thing I had heard in a long time. The news spread like wildfire.
Day 12 ( Oct. 05, 2014) and the battalion came in again early and were chatting with my family on being discharged and the list of dos and don’ts. One of the mandatory people that come for such sessions is the dietician. Poor girl! Got a hearing from both mom and me when she mentioned oats. We only asked what kind of dish to prepare with oats and she answered ‘porridge’. There started her class.
Now, mind you, I am a self – confessed foodie/Mom trained home cook and my mom is a great cook (to me – a Grade ‘A’ Master Chef). We started firing a multitude of dishes one could make other than porridge with oats and she was totally astonished. We did share some of the recipes with her and suggested that they bring a bit of variety in the dishes and improve the standard of hospital food a bit in terms of taste so that the patients and their folks ‘enjoy’ the food. You know, sort of like a ‘feel good factor ‘. Whether it was implemented or not is yet to be found out. 9 out of 10 – no way…
I do not know what came over me but as soon as I reached home, I told my family that I was giving myself 2 months to start walking. I had to get back to the fiercely independent ‘old’ Siva. The next morning, we had the physiotherapist from the hospital to start his sessions. He asked if we could buy one of those metal hospital beds as it would be more convenient for the sessions. Yes Sir. We got one of those beds and installed it in my bedroom.
Post the session, one of my class 12 buddies who is staying close by dropped in with his family to look me up and to tell me and my family that he and a few other class 12 buddies who are scattered across India and the globe had discussed among themselves and arranged an attender for me. He very clearly told us all not to worry about the payment for the attender as it was all taken care of. What a gesture!! However, my kid brother had organized one attender through a professional agency as he quickly realized that two people would be required to help move me around, especially to go to the loo and back. Remember, I couldn’t walk and had to helped about. The apartment isn’t big enough for movement with a wheelchair.
